MRDR Inc.

WENDY ran deeper into the Jewish Quarter. It was dark but not nearly as dark as she wanted. A full moon filled the sky with a pale, silver, light. She knew this part of Prague well having worked in it for almost six years. And it’s narrow winding streets offered her protection from what was coming.

     The problem was that there were no people. None at all. And her head throbbed to the point that the pain blurred her vision. She stopped to listen. Her own rasping breath was all she could hear. Like a course winter wind rattling in a cave. She dug deep, instructing herself to get it under control. Her breathing steadied and she tried to listen past the pounding in her skull, the dim whistle and the rushing of her own blood through her frantic heart. The whistle! It was faint but she knew what it was. It was a patrol officer trying to scare off some drunks. She must be closer to the square than she realised, perhaps had gotten spun around taking turn after turn after turn.

     She could not hear footsteps nearby. Had she gotten away, she wondered. Low and against the wall she began making her way towards the whistle. She did her best to not make loud footsteps that would echo up the narrow streets, running almost straight-legged on the balls of her feet. She thanked god her boss let her wear comfortable runners at the bar.

     It was his smile that she liked. He had first come in a two weeks ago, maybe even a little more and smiled up at her when he ordered. As he waited or his food he sat cross legged doing a crossword by the window. When she saw to other customers she thought she saw him glance up at her once or twice. Are you winning, she had asked as she brought him a plate of ham and eggs. And that was how it started.

     She turned into an alleyway and then another and another. She kept turning not wanting to stay on a straight road for too long in case she came into his line of sight. It was what she did as a child playing hide and seek in the village, and she was good at that. The best even. The boys could never catch her and so soon stopped inviting her to play. Play with the girls they’d say, but she didn’t want to do that. The girls were boring and just sat around talking. If you didn’t run the risk of at least scraping a knee it wasn’t playing, she had always thought.

     At the next turn there was a gate across the alley. ‘Fuck,’ Wendy said, and cursed herself for speaking out loud. Her voice bounced like a ball off the walls and up towards the sky. She waited to hear if she had been heard. Silence remained. She didn’t want to turn back. The gates were put in alleyways to stop restaurants putting their waste in neighbouring restaurants bins, she knew. Were these the restaurants by the square she wondered, was she close? She climbed up on to one of the large bins and firmly grabbed the top of the gate. The metal was cold, colder than ice which sent chill down her armm and into her elbows. She pulled herself up and swung a leg over. The metal pressed into her as she dragged the rest of her body across the top of the gate. She dropped to the concrete, bending her knees to help break her fall a little. She looked, she waited, she was still alone. As Wendy turned to continue through the alley she heard a sound. A splash of water … no, a splash in water. She looked back and saw him with one foot placed in the centre of a little puddle. The moon catching his blonde hair and the fire in his blue eyes. She ran.

     Wendy curbed one corner after another like she were a figure-skater. Heading fiercely for where she believed the whistle came from. From behind she heard a crash and rattle which told her he had leapt the gate and was in pursuit. But this was her city, she would not be a victim here. The square was never empty and she would lead him there and there would be good Czech people who will hear her cries and help her. They will take him down and hold him until the police arrive; and she will watch as he is thrown in the back of a van, chained and bloodied.

     A final turn and she saw the square straight on. Christmas lights engulfed it from above, a blinking a web for the Christmas market. She could smell the food from the stalls. The market would be closed but for certain there would be workers cleaning up after a long night of trading. For certain there would be, Wendy assured herself as she continued to sprint at full tilt. She was in good shape, she knew she was. She didn’t party much, worked and went to the gym and hiked in the summer and rowed when the river would allow. She handled the drunks of Prague when they were in her little saloon. She slept less than any other twenty-four year old she knew but she rarely got tired. She would not be beaten by this fuck with his perfect teeth; this monster.

     A cold wind whistled through the empty expanse of the Old Town square. The market barren. Most of the stalls and huts were still erect, ready to be used first thing in the morning. It was a little wooden village of green and red and brown and blue, without a villager in sight. Quickly Wendy dashed into the village. She hopped over a little wooden picket fence and in between huts to get immediately out of sight. She didn’t want to play this game of turning corners any longer. The Lower Deck wasn’t far and was always open. She could hide there, she told herself. She knew some of the staff, the barman Bruce. He wasn’t one to be messed with.

     Wendy again kept low using her hands and feet. Navigating between the stalls until she reached border of the little village. There was still no sound a part from her. Her breath, her swallowing saliva, her heart. She stood and rubbed her wet and grubby palms on the thigh of her jeans. Coin Alley was straight ahead and she ran for it. As soon as she was in the open she heard a wolf whistle and quickly rolled behind the large Jan Hus Memorial. Why did she do that, she asked herself. Why didn’t she just keep running?  

     She squatted down behind the statue. Keeping low she moved to try peer around the side of it. Broken glass crunched under her foot. She looked to see a what remained of a couple of broken beer bottles, left behind from the drunks or tourists, she deduced. She scanned what she could see of the square not finding comfort in the large open space. Perhaps she should have stayed in the alleyways, she asked herself. No, he wouldn’t try something out in the open would he? But there were no people. None at all. Wendy tried desperately hard to slow her breathing.

      ‘Am I what you’re looking for?

     She had not seen or heard anything. But behind her he sat crouched, holding a bright green apple. Wendy backed against the base of the monument, her fists clenched. She wanted to stand but her legs shuck wildly with fear.

      ‘Where were you going? Did you even know yourself?’

     Wendy felt herself burn with anger. That smug fuck was smiling at her. That smug fuck who was kind. That smug fuck who had then cracked her on the head and laughed.

It had come out of nowhere. They were in his kitchen drinking wine waiting for the chop to roast when he did it. They had arranged to meet at his after her shift. She hit the tiles hard with blood erupting from her mouth in a splatter. She lay for a second or two expecting him to kick her or something but he didn’t. He just stood there drinking from his wine glass. As she lay she scanned the studio apartment for something, anything that could help her. And then her moment came. The buzzer on the oven buzzed loudly. He placed his glass on the countertop and got down on one knee as he opened the oven door. Just a crack at first to let the heat out, then the whole way. He was a very tall man, far taller than Wendy, but at that moment he was down at her level. In one smooth movement Wendy pushed herself up onto her arse and raised both her feet. With every ounce of strength she had she pounded her feet into the side of his head. He flew into the fridge and dropped onto his back. Wendy got up and ran to the door and to the staircase not wanting to wait for the elevator and praying he didn’t use it to gain on her. She leapt down the stairs four at a time using the banister for support. And then she was out of the building and into the narrow, winding streets.

      ‘I asked where were you going.’ His voice was so calm. Like he were asking her her favourite flavour of ice cream.

      ‘Go fuck yourself.’ Wendy lashed. Her fingers were shaking, she could feel herself bubbling with anger which gave her hope. This wasn’t a situation she had ever been in before and found a small strand of pride in that she was ready to fight, that she wasn’t going to make this easy for him. He sniggered at her and took a loud crunch from his apple. She could see the side of his cheek was a little red and this gave her some satisfaction. As discreetly as possible, Wendy felt around on the ground by her ass, not breaking eye contact. She shifted herself a little. Her fingers touched little shards of glass and tiny stones. None of this could help her. She didn’t want to die. She would not die.

      ‘My sweet,’ he continued. ‘I think maybe this was why I was drawn to you. You have a strength. I like this. It’s this I like to break. Some go so easily it almost ruins the experience for me. Almost.’

     Wendy let him talk. If he was talking he wasn’t trying to touch her. He had only hit her hard, but that wasn’t what scared her. The way he was, the look in his cold eyes. His stillness. It told her he was capable of much more. That this monster wasn’t someone who beat woman for kicks or some cowardly rapist that wasn’t loved enough by mummy. Wendy saw him now for what he was. He was evil.

     Her fingers brushed off a shard which felt as big as an arrow head and she clasped it in her palm as if her very life depended on it.

      ‘What do you want?’ Wendy growled at him, not caring much for what he would say. He was too far away for her to strike she knew. She would need to get him closer. And she would need strike him hard and good so he would stay down. As he spoke to her she looked at his throat. The rippling of his Adams Apple, in and out, in and out. How it jumped a little when he swallowed more apple. That was where she must put her weapon, and put it deep.   

      ‘What do you say to that my sweet?’ he asked her. She hadn’t heard a word of what his sick mouth as saying.

      ‘If you’re going to fuck me you best get on with it.’ Wendy said coldly with a daring smirk. This seemed to make him think. Come on, she said in the confines of her mind. Just a little closer you fucking pussy. He inched towards her, still smiling as he did, not breaking eye contact. He was close but not close enough … she needed more. He was big and strong and fast and she would only have one chance.

      ‘You’re mistaken,’ he finally whispered. ‘I have no intention of fucking you. I’m just waiting to see if you have the balls to use what you’re holding.

     Wendy felt her heart drop into her belly with a curdling thump. Her bottom lip began to quiver and she could feel tears trying to escape her eyes. ‘Just leave me alone,’ she sobbed. She could feel the cold of the morning even more now, as if death were inevitable.   

     ‘That’s not going to happen. I’m here to stay and you’re going to die unless you do something about it my sweet. And it’s not going to be pretty. Yours will be a closed coffin. You see there are people like me who put so much effort into making this clean, some who even specialise in making it look like the victim, that’s you, died from natural causes. I’ve never understood that, you see. My way is just so much more fun.

     Wendy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This was for horror movies not real life. She was just a barmaid. She was supposed to have a simple life and maybe one day open her own bar with someone who loved every inch of her. She hadn’t even met that someone. They wouldn’t smile at each other and touch. They wouldn’t have children to run around their bar. No, what was she thinking. Yes they would. This was not her end. She would not be a newspaper clipping on the wall of some police station serving as a warning for what was out there.

      ‘What do you say my sweet … shall we dance?’

     Wendy lunged. She led with her left hand which grabbed him by the shoulder and with all her might speared her right hand and the shard towards his throat. She wouldn’t have to listen to him again, no one would. No one would hear that sick smug voice because she will have killed him. As the glass came to his skin she felt the warmth of hope fill her cold body. With ease he swatted her hand away and the glass danced on the concrete with a chink. The pair of them were locked, both on their knees grasping each other, looking straight into each other’s eyes.

      ‘Shall we begin?’ he calmly asked.